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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25925671">A Grey Ship Sails</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiona_cat2004/pseuds/fiona_cat2004'>fiona_cat2004</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Goodbyes, Grief/Mourning, Hope</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:22:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,127</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25925671</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiona_cat2004/pseuds/fiona_cat2004</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After the death of Aragorn, King of Gondor, Legolas and Gimli plan to sail away into the West. But someone tempts Legolas to stay behind in Middle-Earth.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gimli (Son of Glóin) &amp; Legolas Greenleaf, Legolas Greenleaf/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Grey Ship Sails</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The Appendices to The Lord of the Rings give quite a bit of information about what happened to Aragorn, Sam, Merry and Pippin after Frodo and the others sailed into the West.  However, there is very little mention of Legolas and Gimli, other than that after Aragorn’s death, Legolas built a grey ship and sailed down the Anduin and across the Sea, and that some say Gimli went with him.  Here is my own idea of what might lay behind those brief words …</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In the 120th year of the Fourth Age, the sun shone bright and fair over the wide Vale of Anduin.  And yet, as he stood on a windblown hill amongst the springtime flowers and sweet herbs, Legolas Greenleaf, Lord of the Wood-elves of Ithilien, had sorrow in his heart.  Sunlight glinted sharp and piercingly bright from the waters of the Great River, but it was not from longing for the sea that Legolas sighed.  A great grief was coming upon him; he felt it growing like a cloud looming over the horizon.  <br/>	He heard the rustle of a light foot stepping over the grass behind him.  Although he was certain who it was, he did not turn, but kept his gaze on the west and the distant tower of Minas Tirith, shining like a white needle.<br/>	“A messenger has come, my lord,” spoke a low voice, beautiful and measured, like the cooing of a dove.  Legolas turned to look at the Elf-maid, and his heart was troubled even more.  She was tall and slender, as were all her race, fair of face and graceful as no mortal woman ever was.  As always, his heart lifted at the sight of her, but it did not leap as it did when he caught the high, thin call of gulls flying past, or a breath of sea air on the breeze.  <br/>	“I know,” he replied, walking toward her.  “I have known for some time that the summons would come.”  He sighed and shook his head.  “It is always difficult to part from those we love; more difficult still when the one who departs is so great and wise, and those left behind must do the best they can without him.”<br/>	Galadhwen laid a hand on his arm, and he did not pull away.  Even though he knew he should not encourage that which could not be, he was in sore need of comfort at the moment.  “The King Elessar is the greatest Man to have walked the fields of Middle-earth for long years past,” she said.  “Truly he was as the Kings of Men of old, the Lords of Numenor.  But it is the Doom of Men that they should have only a short span of years allotted to them, and then must pass outside the circles of the world.”<br/>	“And it is our Doom to watch them go,” said Legolas.  There was no bitterness in his words, only the deep sadness of the Elder Race.<br/>	Galadhwen bowed her head; she had no words to refute him.  “He is dear to you,” she said gently, “and your grief at his parting will be deep.  But there are others that you also care for ….”<br/>	Now Legolas did pull his arm away, and Galadhwen folded her hands together.  It pained him that he must refuse her affection, and yet he knew that doing so would only spare her greater sorrow.  For Galadhwen loved the fair woods of Ithilien above all else, and she was of the Wood-elves, not of the Grey-elves as he himself was.  The Sea-longing would never awaken in her breast, and she would never wish to leave the shores of Middle-earth.  Long ago, Legolas had heard the call of the Sea, and all these many years, it had quietly sung in his heart until now it threatened to drown out everything else, even the springtime songs of the birds and the music of the rippling waters that brought forth the sweet herbs and flowers in the garden that was Ithilien.<br/>	They walked in silence to the bottom of the hill, where Galadhwen bowed to him and left him to speak to the King’s messenger.  Legolas found he listened with only half an ear to the man’s words.  For he already knew the tidings which were brought to him, and instead he watched Galadhwen slip into the woods, slim and graceful as a deer, and just as at home amongst the wild trees.</p>
<p>	The next day, Legolas crossed the Anduin, leaving quietly in the early morning so that none were aware of his going.  He found a company of Dwarves awaiting him on the further bank.  They were dressed not for war, but for such work as dwarves love above all else.  Chisels and hammers and other implements of stone and metal work they bore with them, save their leader, who carried a mighty battle axe.  His hair and beard were shot through with much silver, and he was more stout than in earlier days, but still Gimli Gloin’s son was an impressive Dwarf lord.<br/>	“Well, Master Elf,” said Gimli as Legolas drew near.  “The day we have dreaded for so long draws near.”<br/>	“That is does, my friend,” said the Elf.  “I walk in sorrow, for soon I must bid farewell to one who is dear to me, and to one who is fairest of all those of my kind who remain on these shores.”  <br/>	Gimli bowed his head.  “Let us go, then,” he said gruffly after a moment’s silence.  “There is work in Minas Tirith for skilled craftsmen, and bitter work for you and me.”  He hoisted his axe to his shoulder and set off at the head of the line of Dwarves.  Legolas fell into step beside his old friend.  The other Dwarves took up a marching song, singing softly so as not to offend their Lord, but with no need to be grim themselves.  Legolas envied them their merry hearts.  For he and Gimli walked toward a funeral.<br/>	They reached the gates of Minas Tirith late in the day.  As they passed through the wall, Gimli grinned with pride at the magnificent mithril gates, crafted by his own people, a gift to the King of Gondor.  “No Elven-smith could have wrought finer,” he declared, passing a hand over the edge of a gate as he passed.  <br/>	The rest of the Dwarves left them in the first circle of the city, to go to the quarter kept ever ready for the workmen of the Lord of the Glittering Caves, who often came to the great city in service to the King.  Legolas and Gimli continued on, rising steadily up the slope of the hill until they reached the highest level of the city, where only the noblest guests were received.  There they rested in the forechamber of the great hall while word was brought to the King that they had arrived.<br/>	A door opened, but it was not the King who entered.  It was instead his son, Eldarion, a tall man, full grown and wiser than any in the realm save his father.  The blood of both the Numenoreans and the Eldar ran in his veins, and though he had seen scores of years, still his hair was dark and his face unlined.  “My father the King will see you shortly,” he said.  “May I offer you refreshment while you wait?”  He was well mannered and gracious, yet still Legolas sensed his grief.  For all that Eldarion was a mighty Prince, esteemed higher than any in the land, he had always deferred to his father’s companions, those who had ridden with him in the great War of the Ring and had been counted among the Ringbearer’s Fellowship.  <br/>	“They will not have time to take wine and cakes, for I am here.”  King Elessar’s voice rang clear and strong through the hall as he entered, but there was weariness in his face.  Though his face bore few lines, his hair was all silver now, and for one brief moment, Legolas saw the likeness of Mithrandir, Gandalf the White, in his friend’s face.<br/>	“We have come at your summons, Aragorn,” Legolas said.  As ever, when they were amongst themselves, the Companions used the King’s given name, for they remembered fondly the days when they journeyed together, before Aragorn son of Arathorn had taken the name Elessar Telcontar.  But not even Legolas, who was the King’s elder by thousands of years, would presume to call him “Strider”, as the Hobbits were wont to do before they had passed away, either over the Sea or into death.  Only the simple and merry Halflings would dare to call the High King of Arnor and Gondor by such a name, but it had pleased the King very much to be reminded of his humble past, and to remember as well that not all of his subjects were impressed by high white towers, fleets of ships, mighty swords and glittering gems.  <br/>	“Mae govannon, Legolas,” said the King.  “And welcome also to you, Gimli.”  He led them through the hall to a smaller chamber, in which a fire was lit and comfortable couches and chairs were drawn up before it.  Eldarion excused himself and the three companions took their seats, choosing those chairs that best suited them.  Aragorn sank into a curiously carved chair of dark wood, marked with gilding and cushioned with deep blue velvet.  Legolas took a finely carved chair of pale mallorn wood, a gift to the King from the artisans of Lothlorien.  Gimli chose a low couch, covered with a thick tapestry but not well cushioned.  A table near at hand held a pitcher of wine, and a plate of small cakes.  Aragorn poured out three goblets, all made of purest silver and set with precious stones.  Handing them round, and offering the cakes, he appraised his friends.<br/>	“It is good to see you both again,” he said, taking a sip of wine.  He smiled suddenly.  “Do you remember how we three hunted orcs across the breadth of Rohan?  Those were hard days, and yet in memory, I find them sweet.”<br/>	“Many cares are laid on a lord of Men,” said Legolas. “Or of Elves – or Dwarves.”  Gimli grunted in assent.  “It is natural that we long for past days, when we had fewer cares.”  And yet it was not the past that Legolas longed for now.  <br/>	“You are wrong, Legolas,” Gimli said.  “We did have cares then, grave ones.  Brave men died, and the fate of Middle-earth stood on a razor’s edge.  Our current cares are as nothing.”<br/>	“And yet I weary of them,” said Aragorn with a sigh.  “You know why I have called you here, my friends, last of the Fellowship remaining in Middle-earth.”  He rose to stand by the fire, leaning a hand against the mantelpiece.  Though he still stood tall and unbowed, he showed his age.  “As Isildur’s heir, with the blood of Numenor flowing in my veins, I have been granted longer life than other men.  And yet I am not immortal, as are my Elven kin.  Thus far have I remained strong and hale, though my hair has turned to silver.  Soon, though, I will begin to falter.  I feel it in my bones, Gimli.”  He returned to his chair, and Legolas saw that he lowered himself carefully, as an old man will.  “The grace by which I have been granted long life also grants me the right to give back the gift when I wish, not when time and chance will take it from me.  My son is more than ready to take the throne, and he will rule well.  I would not have my people watch me wither and lose my strength and wits.”<br/>	“Have you yet spoken of this to the Queen?” Legolas said quietly.  Arwen Undomiel, daughter of Elrond Half-elven, had chosen the mortal life of her husband rather than sailing across the Sundering Sea with her father.  When Aragorn gave up his life, so too would Queen Arwen.  The Evenstar of her people would finally set. <br/>	“I have not,” Aragorn admitted, “though I feel she already knows.”<br/>	As if summoned by his words, the Queen entered the room.  She moved quietly, yet their full attention was drawn to her immediately.  Unlike her husband, she showed no sign of age, though indeed she was older even than Legolas.  In the first centuries of the Third Age had she been born, and yet it was clear that Arwen had not yet wearied of her days.<br/>	She took a seat beside her lord, and the four of them spoke of old times, until the fire burned down and they were summoned to dine.  As the company left the dining hall, Arwen laid her hand on Legolas’ arm and drew him a little aside.<br/>	“I know why the King has asked you here,” she said, her voice wavering just the least bit.  “And I know what you plan to do once he is gone, Legolas, Lord of Ithilien.”  <br/>	“Indeed,” said Legolas, “it would be well nigh impossible to keep anything of import from one as wise as you, my Queen.”  <br/>	She smiled then, and shook her head.  “Not so wise as some who have left us,” she said with a sigh.  “Yet perhaps the wisest who still remains.  Not for long, though.”  She lowered her head and Legolas sensed the sorrow in her heart.  “I am not  ready to leave this world,” she said.  “And yet it is my fate to depart soon.”  She raised her head, her eyes shining not with the starlight that lingers in the eyes of the Firstborn, but with bright tears.  “I ask of you a favor, Legolas, my friend.”<br/>	“You have but to ask, Arwen,” he replied.  “Ever will I serve you, and your King.”<br/>	“You mean to leave these shores,” Arwen said, a far off look in her eyes.  Legolas recognized it, for he often felt the same.  It was the look of one who heard the call of the Sea, and could not answer it.  “Do not deny it.”<br/>	“I will not,” said Legolas.  “Many long years have I resisted the call, and when the King departs, I will no longer have the strength of will to deny it.”<br/>	“Then if you will, take a message for me, to my father and mother, and my grandmother Galadriel,” the Queen said.  <br/>	“Gladly,” he agreed.  Such sorrow filled her beautiful face, that he took her hand and pressed a gentle kiss to it.  “To the ends of the earth would I go to run such an errand for you, Queen of Men and Elves.”<br/>	Arwen laid her hand against his face.  “I thank you, Legolas, Thranduil’s son,” she said.  “It may be that still I can persuade my lord to wait a little while, but when he has departed, I shall write my farewells to those that I love who no longer dwell within these shores, and these I will deliver to you with my own hand; and so you, who are in some way my kin, however distant, shall be the last of my people to see me walk the earth.”<br/>	“Then I will be fortunate indeed, Lady Evenstar, to see the last of the Eldar depart from Middle-earth,” he said.   </p>
<p>	The next day, King Elessar summoned his closest advisers and companions, and they gathered with great sorrow before the House of the Dead.  When the King arrived, the great winged crown of the Numenoreans on his brow and the Queen Evenstar at his side, all there assembled bowed their heads, save for Legolas, who was of the Elder race and alone of all the King’s people could bear to look upon the light shining from the Elfstone’s face.<br/>	At the King’s signal, they followed him inside the House of the Dead, where a bier had been prepared, spread with cloth of gold and a silk cushion laid at the head.  The King stood before this bier and called forward his son, who knelt before him.  “This crown I give unto you, Eldarion Telcontar, my only son,” the King said.  “For it is time for me to leave my people and go to the rest that all wise men seek.”  He then took the crown from off his head and placed it on Eldarion’s brow, and it seemed to those in attendance that Eldarion grew in stature, even as he knelt before his father, and the light of kingship shone clear and steady in his eyes.<br/>	“With a heavy heart do I accept this gift from you, my father,” Eldarion said.  “For no man can hope to live up to the legacy that you have wrought.  Still, I am of your blood, and I will do my best to follow the path you have blazed.”<br/>	Then the King raised up his son and bowing to him, turned to lay himself upon the bier.  He bade everyone leave, save only the Queen, and folded his arms upon his breast.  As Legolas departed with the others, he looked back.  Aragorn appeared as a man overcome with great weariness, and the Elf knew it was more than time for the King to go to his well earned rest.<br/>	They milled uncertainly outside the Houses of the Dead for a quarter of an hour, none sure what should be done.  And then the Queen appeared at the door, her face pale but unstained with tears.  She strode calmly to her son, and went to her knee before him. “The King is dead,” she said in a clear voice.  “Long live the King.”  <br/>	No one spoke for a long moment, and then Gimli, with a gruff cough cleared his throat and cried, “Long live the King Eldarion Telcontar!”  Legolas took up the cry, as did many others.  “Long live Eldarion Telcontar, High King of Arnor and Gondor!”  Then the King raised up his mother, for he would not have her kneel before any man.  With both great sorrow and great joy, the company left the House of the Dead to its solemn peace, and returned to that part of the city where dwelt the living, and word was spread that a new King sat upon the throne.<br/>	Before Legolas left the city, Arwen came to him.  “I will depart soon,” she said.  “Look for me in Ithilien before the Moon has reached his full.”<br/>	“Whither will you go?” he asked.<br/>	“To Cerin Amroth, where Aragorn and I plighted our troth so many years ago,” she replied.  “Lothlorien fades now, but still it is the land of my mother’s people, and I was happy there.  I will not lie in a cold tomb with the queens of Men, but amongst the trees and flowers beloved by our people.”<br/>	To this Legolas made no reply, and with a bow he left her.</p>
<p>	On his way back to his realm in the woods of Ithilien, Legolas stopped in Osgiliath, where dwelt the Prince of Ithilien, grandson of Faramir and Eowyn.  There he requested the use of the Prince’s men and their knowledge of shipbuilding, for now that Osgiliath was rebuilt, it had become a great inland port, with ships sailing upriver from the Sea, bearing all sorts of precious cargo and trade goods.  The Prince was troubled by Legolas’ request, but as his father and grandfather before him, he held the Elf in esteem, and as an equal, for Legolas was also a prince, though he dwelt no longer in his father’s realm.  And so the Prince assented, and Legolas returned to his people.<br/>	Galadhwen greeted him with concern, for word had come to the Elves of the passing of King Elessar, and all knew that their Lord would grieve for his friend.  It pained Legolas to hear her words of sympathy, knowing that soon enough she would likely have words of anger for him.  <br/>	The day after he returned, Legolas gathered the greater part of his people and said to them, “I have summoned you here to decide whom you will take as your Lord after me, for I will soon be leaving you.”  There was great astonishment at these words, and Galadhwen fled in tears.  Though he wished to follow her, Legolas continued.  “Long have I heard the call of the Sea whispering in my heart,” he said.  “And long have I resisted it, out of love and loyalty to the King Elessar, to help him restore the reunited kingdom. But now the King has gone, and given his realm into the hands of his son, who rules now in Minas Tirith, and it is time also that I should give these woods into the hands of another, and follow my doom.  The Prince of Ithilien has granted me the use of his shipwrights, and I will build a ship as soon as may be, and sail down the Anduin and thence to the Sea.”<br/>	Then leaving them to choose as they would his successor, Legolas went in search of Galadhwen.  He found her on the hill, gazing upon the Anduin, and her face was stern and cold.  “I have looked on this river and its valley with joy,” she said, “but now I feel only hate, for it will bear you away from us.”<br/>	“I would stay if I could,” Legolas said, “but the Sea Longing is like an ache, that can be borne only so long before it must be relieved, or the sufferer go mad.  I must follow my heart, and sail into the West.”<br/>	“Follow your heart, you say,” Galadhwen said bitterly.  “I would that your heart led you somewhere closer than Elvenhome across the sea.”<br/>	“My heart is torn,” he confessed.  “I would have wed you long ago, Galadhwen, if not for the knowledge that even love of you could not bind me to these shores.  It is better to leave you thus, free to choose another if your heart so inclines, than to leave you alone but bound to one who has gone and will not return.”<br/>	“As bitter as it would be to know that you love me not at all, it is far worse to know that you do, and yet not enough to remain,” she said sadly.<br/>	Legolas took her hand and pressed it to his lips.  “I would ask you to go with me,” he said, “if it were not that I know you would refuse.  Your love for Middle-earth is as strong as my longing for the Sea.  Even for love of me, you would not leave the woods and waters of Ithilien.”<br/>	Galadhwen was silent then, and pondered his words.  With tears in her eyes, she nodded and said, “You speak truly.  For I am afraid to take to ship and sail across the Sea, and if you will not stay with me, then I must lose you.  I cannot leave this place, which is my home.”<br/>	“You are of the Silvan folk,” he said, “who have ever dwelt within Middle-earth, in heart as well as body.  And I am of the Sindar, who heeded the call to join the Valar, but stopped along the way only for love of their king.  Yet still, we were willing to go, and the call has only slept, not faded away.”<br/>	“I will never wed,” Galadhwen declared, “nor shall I bear any child, if you leave these shores, my lord.  I swear this by Elbereth, most beloved of the Valar, for I will be faithful to you, though we shall be parted until the world ends.”<br/>	He kissed her then, tenderly, and both shed tears at the fate of their love.  For though there was much love between them, neither was willing to make such sacrifice as Luthien made for Beren, or Arwen for Aragorn.   </p>
<p>	Before a fortnight had passed, Arwen Undomiel came to the woods of Ithilien, under the waxing moon.  Legolas met her beside a laughing stream, but there was no joy in her heart.  Quietly, she gave to him a packet of thick parchment, her written farewells to those of her family who had passed into the West.  <br/>	“Give these unto my father and mother, and my grandmother, if you are still determined to sail,” she said.<br/>	“I am, and I will,” he replied.  “I will guard your words as if they were precious jewels, for as such will they be regarded by those for whom they are intended.”<br/>	Then Arwen laid her hand upon his arm.  “Will she sail with you, Legolas?” she said.<br/>	“No,” he replied, though he could not say how Arwen had known.  “Her heart dwells here in Middle-earth, and she will not leave these shores.”<br/>	Arwen smiled sadly and dropped her hand.  “So many partings,” she said.  “Namarie, Legolas.”<br/>	“Namarie, Arwen Undomiel,” he replied as she turned and walked into the shadows, and was lost to his sight.  <br/>	“Who was that?” said Galadhwen, appearing at his side.<br/>	“It was the Queen Evenstar, Arwen Undomiel,” said Legolas.  “She is gone to her long rest, and none will ever see her again.”<br/>	“Where does she go?” asked Galadhwen.  “Will she not lie beside her husband in the tombs of Men in Minas Tirith?”<br/>	“No,” said Legolas.  “She goes to Cerin Amroth in Lothlorien, to fade and die with the wood wherein her grandmother Galadriel dwelt.  For she is of the past, and must leave this world.”  He turned then to Galadhwen and took her hand.  “So too are we of the past, for this is now the Age of Men.  We Elvenfolk must pass over the Sea or else dwindle and fade, until we are only a dim memory in the hearts of Men.”<br/>	“Still would I stay among the trees,” she said.  “I cannot face the terrors of the Sea.”  She took her hand from his, and walked away, her silver dress shining in the moonlight.</p>
<p>Legolas had several tall trees of Ithilien felled, with which to build his ship.  Some among his people were grieved to see such noble trees brought to an untimely death, but Legolas chose wisely, and took only those trees that had reached their prime and had few years of life left before them.  Their fine silver wood was hewn by the Elves and woodsmen of Ithilien, and sent to Osgiliath, where the shipwrights and carpenters wrought a small but well balanced ship, such as could be handled at need by a single sailor.  <br/>	In due time, the ship was finished, and Legolas was pleased.  He gifted the shipwrights with such gold as he had gathered in his time as Lord of Ithilien, and it was not without worth, for much had come to him from Gimli and the dwarves of the Glittering Caves.  To the Prince of Ithilien, he gave a necklace of gold and mithril, set with a magnificent crystal that gathered and reflected even the smallest ray of light.  Then returning to the woods, he made ready to depart.<br/>	On the morn of his leave-taking, Galadhwen came to him and once more asked if he would change his mind, and remain in Ithilien.  And once again, Legolas asked if she would sail with him, though both knew the other’s heart was unchanged.  <br/>	“Will you come to the river and see me off?” he asked, reluctant to be parted from her when there was so little time left to them.<br/>	“No,” she said, shaking her head.  “I will say my farewell here, under the trees, where I belong.”<br/>	And so they were parted, and Legolas took up his pack and walked to Osgiliath, where the ship lay at anchor, straining against the ropes, so eager was she to follow the Anduin down to the Sea.  On the docks were gathered the shipwrights and carpenters, and all who had a hand in the building of the ship, as well as the Prince of Ithilien and others of his household.  And standing squarely in the middle of the dock, before the gangplank, was Gimli, son of Gloin, with his finest mithril mail blazing in the sun.<br/>	“I am glad you have come to see me off, Gimli,” Legolas said, taking the Dwarf’s hand.<br/>	“See you off?” replied Gimli.  “No, Master Elf, I am coming with you.”  He grinned at the astonishment on Legolas’ face.  “You did not think I would let you go off on such a mighty adventure without someone to look after you, did you?  Besides, I grow old, and even the Glittering Caves lose their charm, when I remember something of much higher beauty.”  His hand went to the heavy gold necklace that he always wore, wherein was set a clear crystal, large as a hen’s egg, and within the crystal were three strands of golden hair.<br/>	“Only the Firstborn are allowed to follow the Straight Path,” said Legolas.  “It may be that you will not be permitted to leave the Globed World, and must be left to drown in the wide Sea.”<br/>	Gimli dismissed such words with a wave of his hand.  “I have no fear, Legolas,” he said. “I would hazard any risk for the chance to see the Lady Galadriel again.  And I would rather end my days in peril and adventure, even to drown in the wide, wide Sea, than to fall into dotage and tumble from my stone seat within the Caves.”<br/>	“Then I welcome you, my friend,” said Legolas.  “And it is high time to depart, for the wind is from the north, and will speed us on our way.”  <br/>	They stepped onto the ship, followed by three sailors of Osgiliath, who would teach them the ways of the Sea.  Behind them, a larger ship also weighed anchor, for she would escort them until they were well out from shore, and then take back on board the three Men.<br/>	Down the Anduin the grey ship sailed, and as they passed the high hill Legolas saw, with his clear sight, Galadhwen standing tall and proud with her hair unbound in the breeze, her hand raised in farewell.  He raised his own hand to her, and Gimli asked, “What is it?”<br/>	“It is the lady Galadhwen,” Legolas replied softly, and Gimli was wise enough to say no more.  Legolas stood in the stern, until they had passed so far down river that even Elvish sight could no longer behold her.  Then he turned to face the prow, and looked behind no more.<br/>	They sailed south until, as night drew near, Legolas heard the cries of seabirds, wheeling in the air above the ports of Gondor.  The evening breeze rose soft and cool from the water and swept upstream, bringing the scent of salt and seaweed and fish, and faintest of all, a hint of unearthly flowers blooming beyond the ken of mortal Men.  Then did his heart leap up with joy, and he knew he had chosen aright.  He would regret nothing, for this was his destiny.<br/>	The ship lay at anchor that night among the fleet of Gondor, but Legolas refused to go ashore.  “I will not set foot on land again,” he said, “until I reach the shores of Eldamar across the Sea.”  Gimli and the sailors left the ship, and Legolas lay awake all the night, watching the stars wheel past and the moon make his journey across the sky.  Just before the sun arose, Earendil sailed above the horizon, and the beauty of the light he bore pierced Legolas’ heart with wonder.  Soon, he thought, he would be among those who had not only seen the light of the Silmarils, such as the one Earendil wore on his brow, but even the light of the Trees, which had long been lost to the world.<br/>	When Gimli and the others had returned aboard, they set sails and left the River behind.  As the prow cut the first wave, Legolas felt his Sea Longing subside at last.  Long the ships sailed, the sleek grey vessel ever in the lead, following the coast westward, but always standing far off from shore.  The sailors imparted all their knowledge of navigation and steering, and other arts of the sea, which Legolas was eager to learn. <br/>	After many days, the land fell away behind them, and nothing lay ahead but open sea.  Onward both ships sailed, until at evening Legolas bade them furl their sails and rest, for on the morrow they would part.  They rode at anchor that night, and the sailors aboard the Elven ship toasted the fate of their companions, and many fine speeches were made.  And in the bright morning, they were set down in a small boat, and went across to the other ship, where their fellows took them aboard.  Then both ships set sails again and the wind from the east sent them westward.  <br/>	Legolas held the tiller and steered the grey ship straight and true.  Gimli, gripping his axe with one hand and Galadriel’s lock with the other, stood in the bow, peering ahead for a sign of land.  The two ships sailed side by side, and as they mounted a great sighing wave, the grey ship shuddered, and Gimli fell against the wales.  Legolas braced his feet and stayed upright, as the grey ship left the Globed World and moved onto the Straight Road.  The mortal ship disappeared, sailing on across the curved sea.  <br/>	“Behold!” Legolas cried as he spied, far in the distance, beyond the sudden mists, a tall white tower.  “It is the harbor of Alqualonde.  We have reached the Straight Way, and have left Middle-earth behind.”<br/>	Gimli rose to his feet and stood with his mouth agape.  The wind bore them swiftly toward the shore, and soon they were met by the white swan-ships of the Teleri, who of all the Firstborn have always loved the Sea.  With such an escort, they reached the harbor and safely docked.<br/>	Legolas sprang ashore, while Gimli came more cautiously behind.  Many Elves were there to greet them, arrayed in various colors and adorned with lustrous gems.  The throng parted as the two companions walked among them.<br/>	“Welcome to Elvenhome,” said a familiar voice, and Legolas saw that Elrond Half-elven stood among the crowd.  Beside him was his wife, Celebrian, who had sailed into the West long ago, and with them was Galadriel.  <br/>	“The Lady Galadriel!” Gimli cried, rushing forward as soon as he spied her.  He went to his knee before her and gazed up with reverence.  “Long have I dreamt of beholding your beauty again, my Lady, and of serving you in whatever manner you deem wise.”<br/>	Galadriel smiled.  “Rise, Gimli son of Gloin, most devoted of Dwarves,” she said.  “By some grace you have reached these shores, and so you must be deemed worthy of much honor.  I would not have you kneel before me.”<br/>	Then Gimli rose, still clutching the pendant in his hand, and Legolas took the packet of letters from his pocket.  He had not thought to find Arwen’s family so quickly, and yet he had carried her missives on his person rather than in his baggage.  <br/>	“These I bring from one who loved you,” he said, handing the packet to Elrond, who took it gravely.<br/>	“Then my daughter is lost to me once again,” he said.  “And my foster son as well.  Your coming brings sorrow as well as joy, son of Thranduil.”<br/>	Legolas bowed his head, for he could not deny it.  And yet the very air burned in his lungs, and the light was so piercingly clear that he could feel nothing but joy.  He had loved Greenwood the Great, and the primeval forests of Fangorn, and the gentle forests of Ithilien, but nothing in Middle-earth could compare with the beauty and delight of Eldamar.<br/>	“There is another of your acquaintance who wishes to see you,” said Galadriel.  “Come, he awaits you in my house.”<br/>	Then Legolas and Gimli willingly followed her, and they traveled without weariness until at the fading of the day, they reached a noble dwelling.  In the garden, Legolas spied a figure wrapped in billowing white.<br/>	“Mithrandir!” he exclaimed, and the figure turned to greet him.  It was indeed Mithrandir, Gandalf the White, as merry as always, with depths of wisdom in his eyes.<br/>	“Legolas,” said Mithrandir.  “And Gimli.  So at least some of our Fellowship are reunited, once again.”  He gestured for them to join him on the alabaster benches that ringed a glittering fountain.<br/>	“What of Bilbo and Frodo?” Legolas asked, at the mention of the Fellowship.  “And Sam, I hear, sailed as well.  What of them?”<br/>	Mithrandir bowed his head.  “Tomorrow, if you wish, I will take you to where they lie,” he said.  <br/>	“They are dead, then,” said Gimli gruffly.  “I had thought perhaps they were granted immortality for their labors.”<br/>	Galadriel shook her head.  “Not even the Valar can take back the Gift of Iluvatar,” she said.  “Only the Firstborn remain in the world for ages on end.  The Halflings – and even your own kind, Gimli – share the fate of the Secondborn.  Bilbo, Frodo and Sam were granted much longer life than they would have enjoyed had they remained across the Sea, but only so far did the power of the Valar extend.  In the end, they went to their well deserved sleep, as do all mortals who walk the earth.”<br/>	These words troubled Legolas, for it came to his mind as if for the first time, that of all the Fellowship of the Ring, only he and Mithrandir would remain.  And even as he joined Gimli and Gandalf in recounting the adventures they had shared, he pondered this thought in his heart.<br/>	On the following day, Gandalf led them to a small glade amongst a forest of trees that made the mallorns of Lothlorien seem the merest scrub.  Set in the midst of the glade were three white stones, graven with the names of the valiant Hobbits who slept beneath them.   A sprinkling of delicate flowers covered the mounds, and Legolas felt a great peace as he walked among the stones.  <br/>	“Did he find rest?” he asked, his hand on Frodo’s gravestone. <br/>	“Yes, he did,” said Gandalf.  “Rest and peace in plenty.”  He sighed.  “No hero of the First Age ever faced more grief and pain than Frodo did, and yet somehow he had the strength to come through it relatively unscathed.  What his own nature could not heal, the Valar did.  Until his final days, he was merry and light-hearted again, like the young carefree hobbit I used to know.”<br/>	They left the glade to its silence and went back into the city, where Legolas and Gimli had each been given a house to dwell in.  Gimli’s was carved of warm golden stone, and well suited to a Dwarf, which he wondered at.  Yet the Noldor had been fond of crafting and building, even as the Dwarves, and some of them did not follow Feanor across the sea to Middle-earth.  Legolas dwelt in a small house surrounded by a lush garden, with many trees growing not only beside the walls, but within them as well.  <br/>This house lay on the outskirts of the city, near a hill that overlooked the shore.  That evening, Legolas climbed the hill and sat upon a great shelf of stone, carved with curious figures long, long ago.  He looked out to the Sea as the shadow of the land stretched out over it, to cover the waves in shadow.  <br/>“What are you thinking of?” said Mithrandir, appearing so suddenly that even Legolas did not hear him approach.  <br/>“Many things,” said Legolas, “but mostly of one I left behind.”<br/>Mithrandir nodded sagely, and lit his pipe.  The sweet, pungent scent of pipeweed filled the air.  Legolas had never been fond of the habit, wondering why hobbits and men would wish to foul the air and their own lungs with such a reek.  And yet now, the smell of pipe smoke drew him back in memory to the day Isengard fell, and Merry and Pippin were found lounging upon the ruins of the gatehouse.  <br/>“A lady, I presume,” Mithrandir said at last.  <br/>“Yes,” said Legolas.  “Galadhwen is her name.  She would not leave Ithilien.”<br/>“And so you sailed without her,” the wizard said, blowing a smoke ring that formed itself into the perfect image of the sleek grey ship that had borne Legolas and Gimli across the Sea.<br/>“I had to,” Legolas said.  “I would not stay, and dwindle, watching the cities of Men grow greater and greater, forgetting their brothers who dwell amongst the trees.  I do not presume to be among the wise, Gandalf, but I know this much: Elves, Dwarves, Ents, even the Halflings, will all be driven back, forgotten in all but the old tales that are told to children.  One day, Men will scoff at he who speaks of our kind as having truly lived.  And those who remain will hide in the wilderness, fearful and forgetful of the glory that was once theirs.”  When he finished speaking, he felt a bit dazed, as if some one other than himself had spoken with his voice.<br/>“And there is something else,” he went on.  “I have thought much about what Galadriel said, of the Gift of Iluvatar.  All my life I have wondered at that phrase, for why should it be called a Gift, when Men are made feeble and weak by age, and must leave those they love after a handful of years?  Yet now I think I understand.”<br/>“And why is that?” Gandalf prompted.<br/>“Because Men, and Dwarves and Hobbits, and all mortal beings, are not bound to the Circles of the World,” Legolas said.  “Even as they see their loved ones fall, they are consoled to think that, if all that is said is true, when they too depart the world, they will be reunited with those who have gone before.  This is not true of the Firstborn, for we must endure until the world itself is unmade.  Even those who fall in body do not leave Arda, but are gathered into the Halls of Mandos to await the end.”  He sighed heavily.  “Were I a mortal Man,” he said, “I would be able to believe that in due time, I should leave this world, and in that world beyond which Elvenkind cannot reach, I would find Galadhwen again.  But I do not possess the Gift of Iluvatar, and so I must wait all the long ages of the world in hopes of seeing her yet again.”<br/>Mithrandir nodded, puffing on his pipe, and said nothing for some while.  And then he quietly said, “And yet, ships can still be built, and some remain who can sail the Straight Road, and who can tell what will come to pass in the long years that remain to the world?”  He rose then, knocked the ashes from his pipe, and walked away.  <br/>Legolas remained on the hill, long after the sun had gone away.  His heart was lighter than it had been, though still he sorrowed.  When Earendil sailed into the sky, his light reflected in the gentle waves of the sea, Legolas rose and walked in hope beneath the stars.</p>
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